


Let's be alone together

by Lust_Demon



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Grooming, Torture, psychological and physical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 03:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust_Demon/pseuds/Lust_Demon
Summary: Young girls are always on the run or on their guard in a world that's been torn apart and left for ruin. Young mechs have seen too much war and it leaves a hard imprint on their sparks. When two races are brought to madness, what are the chances of finding One who can Light The Darkest Hour?





	Let's be alone together

**Author's Note:**

> This starts off rather slow and the graphic torture isn't going to be for a little while so I'm going to have to give warnings before those chapters come into play. There will be some different words used here similar to how gas is Guzaline and water is aquacola in the mad Max movies, but since this is set in America the language and slang will be different. Also, Rodimus' knowledge of language is a bit skewed because of his damaged processor.

The world as he knew it was cold and silent. For as long back as his thoughts could go, there was a nothingness that pressed down on him like an anvil. The weight of emptiness crushing the life from him just as easily any weapon could slice or bludgeon or maim. He had never been one to like the quiet and this was a torture spinning his thoughts around and leaving him with the memories of everything he'd done wrong. Things he should have done and people he never said goodbye to because he had always thought he would have more time.

So when the sound came once more, at first he thought it was a dirge of memories, rolling around his head and trying to break him further. He didn't realize it was more than that until he felt hands rubbing the dirt off him and the honest, actual warmth of a body manipulating his door into opening and then finding the release for his hood. Most of his systems were dulled so he still couldn't see, but he could feel the lithe hands inside his engine block and heard the softly spoken words as whoever it was marveled and adjusted some of his wires.

“Can't believe there's no pieces missing… just broken down. Like someone was ripping at him.” The breath of the speaker wafted across his engine block and he could have cried when he had physical proof he wasn't alone. “I can do this… gotta be easier than friggin around with a damned war rig…” 

He could be fixed? What was it that needed fixing? How was he broken aside from the obvious ways? He felt a shift of weight against his front and the quiet grunt of the one fixing him, a clang of metal that wasn't his body just off to his left. When was the last time someone had touched him, medically or otherwise? How many vorns had he been sitting here in a state of stasis? 

The voice was singing something low now, an unfamiliar tune and strange words that his translator could parse but his processor was having problems figuring out. 

“The road goes ever on and on,  
Winding back on Destiny  
Calls to me across time  
This is for the best, you see.”  


The weight adjusted again, the person tugging at him and briefly grunting as dirt was cleaned out of his interior. 

“The water's gone and so’s the heart  
That used to beat for you  
We cannot meet again, my dear  
The Road calls clear and true.”  


Dimly, his sight came back a little at a time and he could see he was inside a broken down building that had partially rusted pieces of cars along the walls. He still couldn't make out the one fixing him but it was small, in comparison to him. Humane? Was that what these creatures were called? 

“I’ll pass the green signs and the red,  
I’ll not wait for those who come after.  
This heart cries out for distance, love  
And I've had 'nuff of laughter.”  


There was more warmth in this one's tone and a soft grunt interspersed her words as a rag was pulled across him to help get more grit out. Something wet pressed against him lightly that he could tell wasn't a proper oil that he was used to. 

"I'm going to run the highways now  
Not coming back to small towns,  
Filled with small minds, small thoughts and  
Ones that’ll run me into cold ground.”  


The humane pulled back and he could feel a hand run along his side as they moved back to his door and then moved inside to fiddle under his steering wheel. 

“Gonna need to jerry up an igniter…” the creature muttered as the section under his steering wheel popped down so they could tease his wires down. 

They got up again and drummed fingers on his door and roof and he could make out the slim figure they made up as they looked around. He wasn't sure what for but he felt his tanks roll as he saw the figure going over to the wall and start looking for something amongst the pieces. Little by little he started to recall where and who the pieces were from. Large armor panels that likely seemed like simply car doors or side sections to the humane but he knew once covered sensitive protoflesh. His senses blinked in and out as he watched the organic pulling down some fragments and his frame shuddered. Coolant started to flush through him and he saw the humane spin around to stare at him. 

\---------------------

Mikaela stared at the car, her brow furrowed at the sound that came from it. Or from outside was more likely. Her footsteps took her to a window and she shoved the tarp covering it to the side. Sweat had already started to bead across her forehead and her hands were shaking. She couldn't see anything so far but just because she couldn't see a threat didn't mean that her stomach was going to unclench any time soon. Her hands gripped the grimy window sill and she let the tarp fall back into place, her body sliding down as her knees refused to hold her up longer. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a breath before turning around on the scrap of wood, working her way back to ground level and leaning on the car.

“Hearing things.” She shook her head and took a breath. “Nothing out there but nothing and 'ought else. I’m fine.” 

She kept muttering 'nothing’ under her breath, dragging in deep breaths until her stomach finally began to calm down. Her hands still shook, but at least her legs were keeping her upright as she circled over to the hood once more and could put her hands to something solid. Closing her eyes, she tried to place what she had heard and let her fingers wander across the slightly warm metal. Not an engine sound, but something in the belly of the beast. Opening her eyes again, she nodded and licked her chapped lips, wishing she had more rations of water to spare. It was the soft season so there might be some from the clouds if she was lucky and could find something to catch it in. One more thing on her list to do.

“I'm safe here.” She whispered the words, afraid to say them too loud and call fate down on her back. “No warlords, no cherry pickers.”

Once she got this beast running, she wouldn't have to worry about those anymore. She'd drive till she hit the Northern borders and keep on going. She could sleep in the back, hide herself under crap and make the car look like junk at first glance so no one would bother even if they caught sight of it. No men staring at her when she just wanted to do some work. No having to hide under a car when someone walked into the room. No throwing up at night because worry knotted her gut to the point that she couldn't sleep. What would it even be like to feel safe enough to sleep through the night? Maybe even without a knife under her pillow? 

But that was getting far ahead of herself wasn't it? Mikaela smiled wryly and took a breath, her hands stroking along the metal to shift pieces back into place and wetted down sections that were tight with the synthetic oil she stole before she got out of The Raging Gulch. It would never be the same as oil that used to be around, but people made do. 

Wiping her hands on her pants, she went to the driver's side door and crouched down, her hands snaking in to touch the wires that she had tugged down to look at. She could fix some ignition switches quick enough. She was lucky this place was virtually untouched and had pieces and tools lying around. Of course the question was, why was this stuff here when it could be of value in a town? Perhaps it was too much effort to drag it all or maybe it was abandoned because of ghosts? There was no sign of anyone living out here so she didn't think anyone would come back and find her screwing around with things. 

But just in case she would work quickly now and grab gaz and get out. Maybe she'd grab the stuff for ignition switches and toss them into the car and she'd get it done on the road, just hot wire the beast until she could make alterations. It wasn't as though her supplies were heavy so she could toss in tools and maybe extra parts into the trunk to make things easier. Pits, she could be a traveling black thumb if she did that. Do trade for what she needed and it'd be easier still to work her way North. 

“This can work…” she tipped her head back, her grey eyes brimming with tears. “I can do this, and no one is gonna stop me.” 

Of course she's have to keep her face dirty. Bind her chest to be safe and talk low, but that was nothing new. She'd probably still run into some trouble with the ones who were desperate and didn't care as long as they could force a small body down on the ground, but it was a lot better than actually letting people know she was a woman. The truth was just too dangerous. Her hands were shaking again and she pressed them to the seat, putting her forehead down as she blocked out images that came to mind. She could feel a small rumble under her palms and sat up straight, eyes wide as she looked for a spot to be safe from an earth shake.

“Have faith.” A rasping metallic voice spoke up. 

Mikaela took her knife from it's spot on her belt and turned, shifting so the car was against her back, looking for the source.

“If you can fix me, you can do anything.” 

“Fix you?” Mikaela whispered, her brows drawing tightly together. “Where are you? Who are you?” 

“Behind you.” 

Mikaela gripped her knife tighter and slowly pulled herself up, looking over the roof of the car, her knuckles white and her heart pounding. 

“The car. I'm the car, humane.” 

Glancing down in confusion, Mikaela moved to the driver's side door and looked inside, sure she was either hearing wrong or just hearing things. Brandishing her knife, she let it sweep through the air above the seat. 

“It's just you and me here. I'm not going to hurt you.” 

“Heard that before. I'm not some young pup that's full of ignorance and stars.” Mikaela swallowed and looked around again for the source, confused since it seemed so close. 

“Steering wheel.”

Turning her head, the young woman frowned and stared at the object in question. She narrowed her eyes at it, barely able to keep herself from looking around like cornered prey. At first glance the piece didn't seem any different from any other vehicle, but in the middle her eyes were drawn and then her free hand followed suit. Her fingers brushed over the dirt that accumulated there and she pulled back when she saw sharp angles that looked like a frowning face. She couldn't remember seeing anything like it before but it felt like it should be important. Looking around again as if that would show her where a person might be hiding. It made no sense that there was a voice that she couldn't place. She slowly turned to look at the steering wheel again, touching the symbol with shaking fingers. It wasn't uncommon for people to mark their cars, but it was usually done on the outside to warn others away. To keep them from making a big mistake and stealing a prized piece that would bring the wrath of a warlord’s cadre down on them. 

“What kind of warlord are you?” Her voice was hard as she pulled away from the car and she swept a hand behind her so she wouldn't bump into anything as she made her way towards her meagre carry satchel. 

“Not a warlord.” The word was spit out just as bitter as she felt it in her heart. “I'm something else. Can't recall.”

“Stand up and show yourself.” 

There was a grinding sound and she jumped as the door of the car pulled closed then the metal began to twist and shift. She wanted to cover her ears but she didn't want to leave herself vulnerable. Her breath caught in her throat as pieces of thick metal pillars unfolded and twisted in front of her. The dirty brown and sickly yellow of the paint job moving aside to give her glimpses of rusted interior before what had to be a leg was planted on the ground. The shape was massive but bipedal and when she stood up on shaking legs, the beast knelt to try to meet her. The only bright and untarnished part of the thing was the blue of what had to be eyes looking into her own. A shaking hand was brought close to it's massive chest and the metal creature bowed it's head. 

“I am Rodimus. I will not hurt you.” There was a brief pause and then it lowered itself further, perhaps because it was hard to stand for even that long. “Can I rest or do you still need to see me?”

Hastily, Mikaela nodded her head, eyes wide. She yelped as Rodimus all but collapsed at her feet. As he fell, however, he was folding inwards and she got that glimpse inside him before he bounced on tires that looked too weary and 'rested’ in car mode in front of her. 

This… was so much better than a war rig...


End file.
